Battle Regalia
by CrimsonAButterfly
Summary: All of the heroes had their beginnings. Those who walk the grounds of Runeterra are no different. With how they journey had started, we see Demacia, Noxus, Piltover and Zaun rise to their true greatness.


The gates raised slowly as the Demacian armies entered the city after a successful siege of one of the Noxian outposts. Many of them were wounded, showing nothing but exhaustion on their battle-hardened faces. Some of them, however, never returned. The entire squad was marching slowly through the plaza, their heads lowered. It is their commander, though, that felt the biggest pain, his enormous sword being dragged with a visible resignation. After all, it's his people that died. People with families, dreams, and futures. Things they'll never be able to see. He grabbed his weapon even harder, making his knuckles go white. Wet from the rain, he stood next to the barracks' door, letting his soldiers go inside first. He sighed then, quietly, and followed the rest of his beloved team. Inside of the building, the sound of the rain pounding on the city roads stopped, leaving them in heavy silence. Luckily enough, a few of the men started to raise their heads, looking straight. The battle, the loss. It didn't weaken them. The captain could swear that it only made them stronger.

"We can't call it a victory, friends." He said. "Not for such cost." After his words, all of them nodded quietly, willingly agreeing with their commander. "We ought to be prepared, however. The Noxian nation is strong and ruthless. They won't hesitate to take back at us for the thing we did today."

"But captain, what's the point?" A soldier asked, immediately drawing man's attention. "We keep destroying their camps, scattering their squads, but they just keep coming. Maybe it's time to give it up." His words shocked him, as well as the rest of the people inside. He didn't blame the soldier, though. He knew it was his fault. It was him that let his man get so demotivated.

He wanted to answer, but at the same moment, he heard loud knocking on the door, altogether with two voices. He felt a small pinch of relief, brightening up a little bit, and so did his soldiers when they saw a mature woman coming inside along with her ten-years-old son. The boy jumped into his father shoulders right away, hugging him as hard as he could.

"Now, now, Garen, we don't want to get your clothes dirty from the battlefield dust, do we? Your mother worked really hard on that." He said, feeling his son pushing his face into his chest.

"I don't care about it, father. I'm just so happy you're back." He answered, smiling. After a moment, however, he did jump down and looked around the barracks. His father's face turned gloomy once again, his eyes blinking with tears. "What's happening, father? Where's Macel?" Captain bit his lip the moment he heard that name. The rest of his team instantly grew sadder. That one will never be forgotten among his troops. Should they torment themselves with that thing, Macel would never forgive them.

The woman that came with his son looked at them with a gasp. "Doran, is it really what happened?" He didn't answer, but the question caught her child's attention, somewhat unwanted.

"What do you mean, mother? Has something happened to Macel?" He asked in his innocent, sweet voice. She couldn't, neither could his father. Telling him the truth would break his heart, as well as his parents'. For now, they swallowed the pain and hid it deep within them.

His father was the one to answer his question. "Macel was sent on a special mission, Garen. Worry not, though, he will be back eventually." He lied. It pained him that an honorable commander of Demacian forces needed to something of such cowardly nature, but a scar on his honor pained him much less than breaking his son's heart would. To his happiness, but pain as well, his son smiled, nodding his head with understanding. The man felt sight of his soldiers on his back, punishing him in his mind. 'I'll return it.' He thought.

"Father, will we go back to the capital now?" He asked curiously. His mother took an embarrassed face, but Doran looked at her with a smile, making her feel better. He knew his son has been talking about going to the capital lately, but they did not know how to answer his request.

Doran made a thinking face, somewhat amusing enough to make the child laugh. That sound was what they needed. The atmosphere in the room thinned at once, warming up hearts and lightening up the faces of Demacian soldiers. "I cannot do it, you should be aware of that, son. I am needed here, by the side of my man." He said proudly. His son looked a bit disappointed, but he surely didn't blame his father. He looked like he understood his duties and the position he is in.

Suddenly, his mother made a surprised sound and looked at Garen with a smile. "I might have an idea. However, if you want to talk about it, I want to see you in bed right away, young man. A future hero of Demacia must rest, just as you all do - she looked at all the guys in the barracks." She said in a motherly voice. The voice of a caring mother that felt her heart being responsible not only for her closes family, but for Demacia in its entirety.

Doran nodded and stood up, telling his soldiers to rest through the night. He himself took of his giant armor, and suddenly, he became a normal man. Long brown hair covered his blue eyes, muscular chest marked itself beneath a loose white shirt. If seen on a street, this man definitely wouldn't be thought to be the Master Crownguard of Demacia. He pushed the wooden door open, letting his family pass, and closed it behind them. They started walking towards the hotel, where Maiona and Garen were staying. His place was where his squad was, after all.

Although it stopped raining, the air was still wet and cold. The weather in the field surely wasn't a good one, especially in circumstances like these. As soon as they came into their room, they were to enjoy the warmth of the hearth radiating from the center. Garen was sent to his room, whilst his tired parents stayed in their own bedroom. "So, what is the idea, my dear wife?" Doran asked peacefully, with a questioning spark in his deep eyes.

And so she told him about an important man coming from the capital in a few days, and that she had nobody in the kingdom from beyond their family she trusted more. Doran seemed skeptical at first, but the more he heard the more favorable was the proposition. At the end of the day, it was unhealthy for a young boy like him. If they let him be taken care of by such an honorable man, it would be the best move they could make right now. As the decision was agreed on by the both of them, the man stood up and bid farewell to his wife, thus returning to his soldiers.

Maiona opened the door to her son's room only to see his little head resting on a pillow. She smiled and whispered a silent goodnight.

The next few days were really calm. No answer from the Noxus has been noticed, nor any violent moves from Demacia foretold. The brave soldiers found themselves sitting in inns all the time, disappointed they can't go onto the battlefield. The weather went the same way, clearing out the earlier stormy sky and sending all the clouds away. The bright sun shone upon Doran's and Garen's heads while they were walking the town's main alley.

The boy was holding his father's hand really hard, almost jumping, excited about the surprise the man had prepared for him. They entered an old shop at the end of the street. First, it proved to be quite messy and dark. Shelves were covered with dust and scraps of long forgotten materials. They approached the desk, his father still smiling. Behind it, on an old, wooden chair, was sitting a short woman, scrolling through some sort of a book. She seemed to be in the boy's age, but, as it is often with Yordles, judging them by their height isn't the best way to go. The black-haired woman put away the file and looked at Doran. "So, you've come, eh?" She asked although it felt as if she was talking to nobody. She jumped off the chair and came around the counter, looking at the young boy. Garen looked back, investigating her looks just as she did. Every few seconds they could hear short "hmm" as she was trying to scale boy's body in her mind.

Tired of waiting, Doran asked: "What do you think, Onny? Would you have anything for him?" She ignored him, measuring Garen's arms for the last time, and motioned them to follow her to the room behind her desk. The storage they were led into was filled with different weapons, instantly creating a look of admiration on the boy's face. Yordle kept looking through different kinds of swords and axes until she found that one thing they wanted to acquire. She showed it to Doran. A short sword, made out of Demacian red steel. When Garen grabbed its handle, his arm was brought down to the ground, but with every second he raised it higher till he could hold it like a warrior he was about to become.

Onny looked at the boy's attitude and posture, nodding her head with a smile. "He'll be a fine warrior, Doran. What are you going to do now?" She asked, curiously.

"Garen is to be sent back to the capital with Lord Vayne in a few days. There he will be trained to be the real warrior, like his father." He said, putting his arm around his son's shoulders.

A questioning look appeared on her face. "Who will train the boy, though? I don't think Lord Vayne is someone capable of doing this sort of thing. Not only that, his wife just gave birth to his first child."

This time it was Doran who was surprised. "That is… That is wonderful. I shall remember to congratulate him on that later." He nodded in gratitude and smiled again. That's the way he was. Doran Crownsguard, always smiling, always happy, yet unforgiving if someone hurt his nation. Onny hasn't known him for a long time. It's been perhaps three months since his family moved to the battlefield far from the Demacian capital borders. It was enough, however, to understand his way of being. She knew that he'd raise his child as a powerful and brave warrior, the way it will certainly be.

He looked at his son with an amused look on his face, seeing him struggling with holding the sword straight. "What are your thoughts on that sword, son?" He asked him, although Garen didn't have the strength to say a word, all of his resources gone on holding the weapon straight. "Don't push yourself so hard, son. You will handle that sword like a real warrior soon enough." He assured him.

Garen looked at him shocked. "Will I?" He asked with a note of joy in his voice.

Doran nodded happily. "As soon as you return to the capital, you shall be trained to be a proud member of Crownguards." He said, to his son's happiness. He then turned to the Yordle and bowed modestly, motioning his son to do the same. "Thank you again, Onny. It is you that started the journey of yet another Demacian hero. Carry that knowledge through your life."

She bowed back with a smile and left the storage. "I will, Commander Doran, and I shall pass the tale of you to the next generations. Now, if you excuse me, I have things to take care of." She said and started looking for something beneath the counter as if they were no longer here.

The men left the store peacefully, Garen still glancing at his newly gotten sword. He couldn't wait to use it in a real fight, but at the same time, he knew that moment wouldn't come anytime soon.

The next day passed like a warm summer breeze, leaving behind it nothing but nice memories of a circus performance and his dad telling him about the art of war. However, that's when the evening came, bringing dark clouds shrouding the fading moonlight. The battle cry echoed through the emptied fields once again, as the Demacian troops were to set off for the battle. Before they left the city, though, Doran, Garen, and Maiona went to meet with the man that was supposed to take their son back to the capital. Next to the back gate stood a carriage, fully equipped with two horses of a beautiful and strong breed, as well as an experienced coachman preparing them for their way back. They found themselves arriving at the exactly same time as Maiona's friend - Lord Vayne.

In a gentlemanlike gesture, he bowed and kissed Garen's mother hand, greeting her with an expected attitude. "I can't express my happiness, Lady Crownsguard. It is very nice to meet you again." He then bid hello with her husband, and her child, at last. "I wish you a priceless and successful battle, Sir Crownsguard. Especially after what had happened the last time." He said with honest compassion.

Doran nodded and looked at his son. They bid farewell without any words, just real men gaze. Garen approached the man and looked at him again. Taller even than his own father, short black hair covering his head, with a short, few days long beard. His black suit was of the highest quality, certainly something only the wealthiest could afford. Despite the rich and ridiculously proud outside, the man appeared to be a very kind person. After all, it is him that his mother could trust with her wife. He entered the carriage with a natural bit of carefulness, but showed none of it. He was to be a brave warrior, as his father expected of him.

The last thing Doran did before leaving for the battle was to handle Lord Vayne a letter, sealed with fresh, red wax. He was to open it after they'd arrived in the city, for he didn't want his son to see its contents.

After that, the man entered the carriage, instructing his coachman to leave the city. It was the last moment before Doran left her wife again to lead his soldiers to battle. His heart pained him twice this time, knowing that Maiona won't have Garen to keep her company, but at the same time, he believed her to be a very strong woman, like every member of Crownsguard was. He breathed in, preparing for these words. "I'll be back, my love." Having said that, not leaving her the time to answer, he moved out.


End file.
